


what if we rewrite the stars?

by kangyesbian (beth1264)



Series: circus freaks [1]
Category: K-pop, PRISTIN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Circus, F/F, Historical Inaccuracy, Period Typical Attitudes, and minkyung just wants to belong somewhere, yebin is a trapeze artist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-27 05:41:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13241634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beth1264/pseuds/kangyesbian
Summary: Minkyung watched, enamored, as the spotlight shone. The performers in the ring-- her family, after all this time-- gave their bows. The audience roared.aka the pristin circus au that literally no one asked for.





	what if we rewrite the stars?

**Author's Note:**

> i'm highkey terrified to post this because i haven't actually written a fanfic since 2013 bUT HERE WE ARE. along with that, this is my first pristin fic, but i've literally read every single minkyebin fic on this site. so forgive me if i'm out of practice but i'm obsessed.
> 
> also, this is obviously inspired by The Greatest Showman, but it has a completely different plot so don't worry about spoilers. and it's never explicitly stated but jsyk this is set around the turn of the 20th century so like the late 1890s-ish.

_Tell me do you wanna go?_  
_Where it’s covered in all the colored lights?_  
_Where the runaways are running the night?_  
_Impossible comes true, it’s taking over you._

_This is the greatest show._

Minkyung watched from behind the scenes as the show unfolded before her, the spotlights shining on the performers in the ring, the audience’s attention all unanimously focused on the spectacle in front of them. They were good – more than good. They were captivating. Minkyung was always amazed at their ability to be so fascinating. During every show, the audience could never look away. Every fan left speechless, a wide smile stretching from ear to ear. It was gratifying, and it was what Minkyung lived for.

Kyla finished her act to thunderous applause, the lions being led out of the ring single file, and Minkyung knew to look up, her eyes catching the figure waiting in the dark high up on the trapeze platform. Nayoung’s voice echoed through the stadium, the ringleader holding the audience’s attention while the trapeze artists readied themselves to perform.

Minkyung glanced away from the figure in the air to watch Nayoung. Her voice was confident, loud. She controlled the entire space, and everyone in the audience held onto her every word. She was made for this job.

Minkyung thought it was insane when Nayoung first told her she was opening a circus.

 

 

 

 “No,” Minkyung said, resolute.

“Minkyung, think about it,” Nayoung begged, leaning forward in her seat. “This is perfect for us. This is the answer we’ve been waiting for since we were eight years old.”

Minkyung had heard about Nayoung’s life the past few months, but it had all sounded made up. Her rich parents had left her a large sum of their fortune in their will, their sudden death putting Nayoung in charge of all their finances. And within months, Nayoung had spent most of it putting together a show. Minkyung always knew Nayoung was bound for great things – she was a natural leader, and one of the best friends Minkyung had ever known. But shows like this were social suicide.

Minkyung’s mother always said circuses were for the poor and low-life. The only people who visited them were the lesser classes, and Minkyung’s family was far too civilized to find joy in freakshows.

When they were eight, Minkyung and Nayoung had snuck away after dinner and slipped in the back door of a traveling circus stopped just outside of the city. They hid in the dark, watching the acts with wide eyes, and slipped out before the show ended to avoid being caught. For Minkyung, that show was her last act of deviance before her family sent her away to finishing school. For Nayoung, apparently, that show had left a seed inside her that was only blossoming now that she was 22.

 “This is dumb,” Minkyung insisted. “There are countless shows just like this one. You’re blowing all your money, and it’s going to bite you in the ass.”

“Maybe,” Nayoung said. “But this show is special. The people in this show are special. And you’re great with people. You’d be the best manager.”

“I’m not a manager.”

“You could be.” Nayoung stood up, making Minkyung tilt her head up to follow her movement. “We’re open every night except Sundays. Show starts at eight. Think about it, come see the show, and then tell me it’s a dumb idea.”

Minkyung’s eyebrows drew together and she thought of what to say in response, but Nayoung had said her piece. She left without another word, letting Minkyung’s door swing shut behind her as she placed her top hat back on her head. Minkyung sat frozen in her seat, her mind racing to catch up to everything Nayoung had said.

Of the two of them, Minkyung had always been the more rebellious. Minkyung had been the one to suggest sneaking into the circus when they were eight. Minkyung was the one that wanted to explore and try new things. Nayoung had always gone along with her on every quest, making sure she wasn’t hurt or caught doing something she might get in trouble for. When she was sent to finishing school, Nayoung had written her letters of support nearly every day.

Until one day they had stopped. She didn’t hear from Nayoung for almost 2 years, and when she arrived back home as an adult, Nayoung was like a stranger. She never expected the other girl to show up on her family’s doorstep offering her an insane, crazy job.

Why did it feel like this time she was the one playing it safe?

 

 

“Minkyung, darling, please pass me the dinner rolls.”

Minkyung did as her father asked without question. The family was gathered around the dinner table, almost completely silent as they ate. Minkyung’s manners were immaculate, and she knew better than to talk out of turn, even now that she was an adult. Her mother would probably have her head.

And she was still thinking about Nayoung, anyway. It had been three days since the older girl’s abrupt visit, but it was still replaying in her mind on a loop. Every day the hype in their town about the new show was growing and Minkyung couldn’t help but wonder why.

“Minkyung,” her mother started instead, bringing Minkyung’s attention startlingly back to the present, “your father and I were discussing you today at tea.” Minkyung nodded for her to continue. “You’re twenty years old now, and we both agree that it’s time you became an adult.”

“Excuse me?” Minkyung asked, confused.

“Your mother – uh, we both agree,” her father amended after a quick glare from Minkyung’s mother, “that the best way for you to advance in life is to marry as soon as possible.”

“What?” Minkyung asked, her perfect manners slipping away from her.

“Close your mouth, dear. His name is Jeon Minhwan, he’s a very talented businessman. We met with him a few weeks ago and he is thrilled at the idea of marrying you.”

“Wait, wait,” Minkyung interrupted. Her mother didn’t look too pleased at that, but she shut her mouth and let Minkyung process her words. “You picked out a man for me to marry?”

“Yes, dear.”

“And you met with him and he agreed to this? Without even telling me?”

“He’s a lovely man. He will make a fine husband, and his business is more than enough to support you and your children for the rest of your life.”

“What if I don’t want to marry him?” Minkyung asked, her eyes darting between her parents. Her father glanced down, uncomfortable.

“He’s lovely, dear.” Her mother repeated.

“But what if I don’t want to marry him?” she insisted. “What if I want bigger things from my life?”

“No one asked what you want,” her mother snapped, her tone sharp. “This is what is best for you.  With your father’s political campaign heating up, we need to look perfect to the public. You need to marry and begin having children before you get much older. You don’t want to end up an old spinster.”

“Excuse me,” Minkyung said, pushing her chair back from the table. Her mother looked disappointed, and her father wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“Where are you going?” her mother asked. “We are not done discussing this.”

“I just…need to think.” Minkyung stood up and left the room without looking back. She could hear her parents talking to each other, the annoyed tone in her mother’s voice as she berated her father for not being a bigger help.

Minkyung shut her bedroom door quietly behind her and pressed her back against it, closing her eyes and letting out a breath.

She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t marry a man she had never met, especially one her mother had hand-chosen. She hated her mother’s society and perfect manners and spotless mansion of a home. It was too big and too cold and she never wanted a life like this for her children. If she even wanted children, which she wasn’t too sure that she did.

 A man her mother decided was perfect for her to marry was likely a man with no heart. Minkyung had grown up around her parents. She knew there was no real love between them. She couldn’t stand the thought of a marriage like that, a marriage that was built more on a business deal than on love.

She couldn’t stand being in that house for another minute. She couldn’t the idea of her parents sitting at the dining room table, deciding her future as if she had no say. As if she was a child. 

Minkyung slipped on the closest pair of shoes and opened her window, effortlessly escaping her prison just as she had so many times growing up.

 

 

When Minkyung arrived, the show had already started. She was late, and she had missed the first several acts, but the audience didn’t seem bored. That was a good sign.

She didn’t know where else to go. Most of the places she frequented her mother knew about, and for once she wanted to be out of her overprotective radar. Nayoung’s show seemed like a better escape than anywhere else, and she knew she could blend into the crowd and become invisible. Being invisible sounded like the best thing Minkyung could do right about then.

Nayoung’s voice rang through the stadium, calling the audience’s attention to the air high above the ground where two girls swung from the trapeze bars. Minkyung watched in awe as they performed, her mouth hanging open slightly and her neck craned back. One of the girls, a thin girl in a sparkly yellow costume, flipped over her bar and hung from her knees, swinging to catch the other girl’s arms and doing a trick Minkyung could hardly follow. The audience whispered to one another excitedly, but Minkyung couldn’t look away.

When the show ended, the applause lasted seemingly forever. Minkyung stood and clapped with them, simply because the performers in the ring deserved it. She realized then that she had been completely transported through the entire performance. She hadn’t even thought about her mother or her future, too caught up in the act to worry about anything but the show happening in front of her. It was like magic.

“Minkyung!” Nayoung exclaimed, a smile growing on her lips when she caught sight of her. “You came!”

“Yeah, I’m here to eat crow.” Minkyung joined her in the back, the rest of the audience having all left already.

“Is that so?”

“You were right. It’s a really special show.” Minkyung nodded, looking around the stadium.  The spotlights weren’t shining anymore, but the theater still seemed magnificent.

“Are you here to join us?” Nayoung asked, still grinning slightly. She seemed proud, Minkyung noticed. Of the show itself or of Minkyung’s approval, she wasn’t sure. But proud nonetheless.

“I don’t know.” Minkyung sighed, and all of a sudden she found herself telling Nayoung everything. They had hardly spoken in years, but Minkyung didn’t know what else to do. She needed to tell someone, and Nayoung had been her best friend for so long. Even if they were practically strangers now, there wasn’t anyone Minkyung trusted more.

And Nayoung was a good listener. She sat down with Minkyung in the front row of seats and listened quietly, her eyebrows drawn together as Minkyung divulged everything on her chest. She didn’t actually say anything until Minkyung was finished, her dark eyes enough to know that she had her full attention.

“That life was never enough for you. I knew it when we were kids, and I know it now,” she said finally. “I’m not going to tell you what to do, because it’s your decision. But you saw the show. It’s like that every single night. It’s… more than fulfilling. The Minkyung I knew as a kid would do anything for a life like that every night.”

Minkyung was quiet for a few seconds. Nayoung was right. She had never wanted to be a rich businessman’s trophy wife. She never wanted to be a baby machine who cooked and cleaned and did nothing exciting for the rest of her life. She had spent twenty years doing everything her mother had told her to do, and it hadn’t gotten her anywhere she wanted to be.

“Okay,” she said. “I can’t go back home so. Okay.”

“Glad to hear it. Come on, let me introduce you to the girls.” Nayoung didn’t sound so excited anymore, like it suddenly wasn't as much of a victory. She stood up, leading them out of the ring.

Behind the scenes was more than chaotic. Girls were running back and forth, throwing things, yelling, and undressing wherever they felt like. The show was over, but you’d think they had somewhere very important to be. Minkyung was almost run over by a girl with bright pink hair and had to stop short to avoid a complete collision.

“Siyeon, watch out!” Nayoung scolded her, but the girl was gone.

“They’re all a little eccentric,” Nayoung told her, leading Minkyung towards a group of girls gathered together at a table. “That was Siyeon, one of the clowns. But she specializes in knife throwing.”

“Knife throwing?” Minkyung repeated. Nayoung nodded and called to the girls at the table. There were four of them sitting around. Two were on top of the table, the other two sitting normally at chairs. One was taking off her shoes, placing them carelessly right on the table’s surface. Someone must have said something funny just before Minkyung and Nayoung got there, because all four were laughing.

“Hey, girls,” Nayoung said, finally gaining their attention. The laughs quieted immediately, and all attention turned to them. “This is Minkyung. She’s here for a job.”

The girls said hello, friendly enough, and Minkyung nodded in response. They went back to their conversation, but one of them continued to stare at Minkyung. She noticed it was one of the trapeze girls, the one in the bright yellow costume who her eyes had seemed to stick to during the show.

“What can she do?” One of the other girls asked Nayoung.

Nayoung shrugged. “Nothing, yet. Don’t worry, she’ll be running the show soon.”

“This is the girl you were friends with as kids?” the yellow trapeze girl asked.

Minkyung didn’t have time to wonder why she knew that because at that moment someone in another room shouted, followed by a loud bang that shook the theater.

“What was that?” Nayoung yelled, already moving in the direction of the noise. “Introduce yourselves and show Minkyung around,” she said to the girls at the table over her shoulder as she fled.

“I’m Kyungwon.” It was the first girl who had spoken to Nayoung, one of the ones sitting on top of the table. Minkyung nodded, though she was sure she was bound to forget their names pretty quickly. “This is Kyulkyung, Kyla, and that’s Yebin.”

The trapeze girl finally looked away when her name was mentioned.

“So, new girl,” Kyungwon said, a bit of amusement in her voice. “You really don’t have a talent?”

Minkyung shook her head. “Just somewhere I really wanna get away from,” she said after a second’s hesitation.

Kyungwon grinned. “Then you’ll fit right in.”

 

 

Minkyung was amazed that a show so spectacular could somehow be even more complex behind the scenes. The girls seemed to put all their energy into each performance, but they were still loud and energetic after every show. They spent all day together, rehearsing and reorganizing their acts, but still wanted to go out for dinner afterwards and share bedrooms. It was really like a family, but not one like Minkyung had grown up knowing. It felt like a family that cared.

Nayoung was the perfect leader. She knew every act inside and out, and knew how to talk to each girl to get them to do as she needed. She knew to avoid Siyeon during her moods, and not to yell at Kyla because she was sensitive. She knew Kyulkyung needed constant reassurance that she was doing the right thing and that Eunwoo needed to be left alone in order for her to get anything done. Nayoung knew them all perfectly, and they all loved her. It was amazing to watch her work.

Minkyung spent the first several weeks just watching. She had written to her parents telling them she was okay and not to worry, but she never heard back from them. She assumed they didn’t want to associate with her anymore, which stung but she tried not to think about it.

Not thinking about it proved easier than expected, though, because there was always something happening at the circus. Whether it was watching Kyungwon work with the elephants – she was the official Animal Master, as Minkyung found out – or making sure Yewon didn’t fall from the tightrope. She had amazing balance, but she tended to get distracted easily.

But Minkyung’s favorite thing to watch was Yebin and Eunwoo on the trapeze. They flew through the air so gracefully it was like they were birds in another life. They trusted each other so completely, swinging their entire weight in confidence the other would catch them. And they always did. They were one of the best acts, in Minkyung’s opinion.

Every show seemed to go off without a hitch, and Minkyung was in awe of the masterpiece Nayoung had created. She loved watching as little girls bounced up to Yebin and asked for autographs, or grown men whispered to themselves as they passed Nayoung. She once heard a little boy no older than three ask Kyla if she had ever been eaten by a lion as she trained them and Kyla’s very serious voice as she replied, “Oh yeah, they’re vicious. One of them ate my hand off once. It took three weeks for it to grow back.” The boy had hugged her and left wide-eyed and amazed.

One night, three weeks after Minkyung had left her life behind to join the Circus Phenomena, as it was advertised on all their posters, a letter arrived from her father. He had begged her to come home, and the thought of that letter kept her awake all night. She could hear Kyungwon snoring in the bed across their shared bedroom, but she couldn’t even close her eyes without seeing her father’s handwriting inscribed on the back of her eyelids.

As soon as Minkyung entered the stadium, she knew she wasn’t alone. It was well past midnight, but there was someone moving in the center of the ring. She stopped in the doorway, her eyes drawn to the silk ropes hanging from the ceiling, and the girl tumbling effortlessly from them.

Yebin moved more gracefully than anyone Minkyung had ever seen – which was ironic now that she knew the girl, because Yebin was one of the clumsiest and most awkward people Minkyung had ever met.  But in the air, she seemed finally at ease, like any time she was on the ground she was out of her element.

Minkyung watched from the doorway for a long while. She had wanted a distraction, and watching Yebin perform was more than satisfactory for that. Her mind was blank of anything other than the beautiful aerialist hanging from the silks, even her father’s letter. She could have stood there all night, and was actually a little disappointed when Yebin noticed her.

She immediately stopped her performance, and Minkyung almost wanted to yell at her to keep going. But Yebin slid down the silk to the ground, her feet landing solidly before she made her way over to Minkyung.

“How long have you been standing there?” she asked when she was within earshot.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed?” Minkyung asked instead of answering. Because she had admittedly been standing there for way too long. It almost felt like spying.

“Shouldn’t you?” Yebin shot back.

“I couldn’t sleep.” Minkyung shrugged. Yebin was right in front of her now, and Minkyung noticed her messy hair and the bags under her eyes. She looked tired. “Why are you practicing your act at 2am?”

“I started late in life,” Yebin said, sitting in the front row seat closest to them. “Eunwoo’s been taking gymnastics classes since she was four. I need the extra practice to get where I’m supposed to be.”

“Yeah, but you also need a good night’s sleep.” Minkyung sat down next to her. “You won’t be able to perform if you’re dozing off on the trapeze platform.”

Yebin grinned. “I’ll be fine. Has Nayoung talked to you about your act yet?”

“I think it’s hopeless,” Minkyung admitted, letting out a breath. “I’ve been here almost a month and I don’t have any talent.”

“It was pretty funny when Kyungwon tried to teach you the animals and you freaked out that horse, though.” Yebin pointed out.

“Kyungwon had to work with that poor horse for two days before it would agree to perform again. Maybe I’ll just be one of the clowns.”

“Don’t let Kyulkyung hear you say just the clowns. She takes her position as Head Clown very seriously.” Yebin nodded seriously, though she was still grinning. She really was fascinating, even when she wasn’t performing. Minkyung couldn’t look away. “Nayoung told me she was thinking of splitting the Ringleader job with you.”

“What?” Minkyung asked, her attention pulled away from Yebin’s smile. “That’s her job. I can’t be the Ringleader.”

“You do a good job when Nayoung’s not around,” she said. “And you’re gorgeous. The crowd would love you.” Minkyung shoved her shoulder, which only made Yebin’s smile grow. “And you’d definitely look hot in that top hat.”

“Stop!” Minkyung insisted, but she was smiling almost as much as Yebin.

“I’m just saying. I think you’d make a great co-Ringleader.”

“Nayoung’s too important to the show to take that job away from her,” Minkyung said. “I could never fill those shoes.”

“No, there’s definitely only one Nayoung,” Yebin agreed. “But I think we could use a Minkyung too.”

“My dad wrote me today.” Minkyung said suddenly, unable to keep it to herself any longer. Yebin’s smile immediately vanished, and Minkyung knew she understood how big a deal that was. “It’s the first time I heard from him since he won the election. And since I came here.”

“What did he say?” Yebin looked worried, and Minkyung almost regretted bringing up the topic. She liked the other girl’s smile a lot more.

“He asked me to come home.” She saw Yebin bite her lip, but the younger girl didn’t say anything. “He said my mother was distraught, and that he really missed me. He said there was still time to fix the mess I’d made, if I only stopped hiding and admitted I was wrong.”

“You’re not wrong,” Yebin replied immediately, her voice defiant. Minkyung looked at her in surprise. “Nayoung always told me you were the girl who wanted the world to bow to her. You’re an adult, you’re supposed to be able to do whatever you choose to do.”

“It’s not that simple. They’re my parents.”

“That doesn’t always mean what it’s supposed to mean.”

“Look, it’s different for me. Your parents support you doing this, don’t they?”

Yebin was quiet for a second. “My parents died when I was nine,” she said finally, and Minkyung suddenly wanted a hole in the ground to open up and swallow her. “We were poor, and I ran away in the middle of the night to do chores for the lady across the street, and I would slip the money in my mom’s purse before she woke up. When the house caught on fire, I wasn’t there.”

“Yebs, I’m sorry.” Minkyung didn’t know what else to say. She felt like a complete ass for being so caught up in her own family problems. She didn’t even stop to think about where the other girls’ family was.

“It’s fine. I was nine. I’ve had a long time to get over it.” Yebin shrugged, but Minkyung got the feeling she was not telling the truth. “The point is, family is a lot more about who you choose to love than who you were told to love. Nayoung saved my life. If she hadn’t helped me when I was homeless and poor, I would probably be dead. I don’t know where I’d be without her – without any of them. We’re all a family here.”

 

 

“Hey, Minkyung, look at this.” Kyungwon came running up to Minkyung and Yebin one afternoon, five weeks after Minkyung had joined the show. Nayoung had started teaching her the Ringleader’s job after her conversation with Yebin that night, and Minkyung realized she actually loved running the show. It was exhilarating, and it was powerful. It was the day after Minkyung’s first official show, and apparently, the newspaper had heard about it.

“Look, you’re on the front page.” Kyungwon held the paper out for her to take, and Minkyung’s stomach dropped at the huge picture of her from the show the night before plastered over the front page.

Yebin leaned in to read the headline. “Governor-elect’s daughter spotted at the circus,” she read. “The newest governor-elect, Kim Ilsung, was seemingly the picture of perfect manners before his only daughter, Kim Minkyung, was spotted last night at the Circus Phenomena, where she was apparently running the freakshow as the Ringleader.”

“Freakshow?” Siyeon asked from a few feet away where she had been listening in. “He did not just call us a freakshow.”

“He did,” Yebin affirmed, frowning as she looked up at Minkyung. “What are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know,” Minkyung admitted, catching Yebin’s eye. “But I think I need to write my parents a letter.”

 

 

Minkyung couldn’t believe it. She had written her parents almost a week ago, asking them to come to the show and give it a chance, but she hadn’t been expecting anything in response. She knew her parents. She knew her mother thought the circus was for the low class. But when she got the note that her parents were coming to see the show that night, she didn’t even know what to think.

It was supposed to be Nayoung’s show. They were splitting performances on a schedule, with most of them going to Nayoung and Minkyung taking over twice a week. But when Minkyung told her about her parents coming, Nayoung had insisted that Minkyung take the show.

She was beyond nervous standing backstage, waiting for the show to start. She usually never got nerves, because she loved talking to the audience and she knew they were excited to see whatever she called their attention to. But this time, her mother was going to be watching her. That thought was so terrifying, she almost wanted to find Nayoung and force her to take the show back.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Yebin said, suddenly appearing at Minkyung’s side and putting a hand on her arm. Minkyung almost jumped in surprise. She hadn’t heard the other girl approaching, but she felt better with her there.

Yebin was dressed in her yellow stage costume, and she was sparkling. Minkyung thought it was impossible for her parents not to fall for her.

“You’re going to do amazing.”

And she did. Minkyung gave the entire performance without messing up any lines, and the girls all performed their acts exactly as they had rehearsed. The show went off without a hitch, and Minkyung was unbelievably proud. She felt giddy as the crowd applauded at the end of the show, her smile stretching from ear to ear. She glanced up at the trapeze platform, and Yebin was smiling at her.

 

 

“Minkyung!” Her mother’s voice was sharp, sounding scandalized, and the bubble Minkyung had been floating in since the performance had ended suddenly popped. Her eyes widened in fear as she turned to face her parents. She had been waiting with Yebin and Kyungwon backstage as the crowd filed out, but she couldn’t stop thinking about what her parents would say. She knew they had done so well, they were bound to understand why she loved the show so much.

But her mother didn’t sound even vaguely happy.

“Mother,” she said, her voice shaking slightly. “How did you like the show?”

“I cannot believe you, Kim Minkyung. I thought I taught you better,” she snapped, and Minkyung’s blood ran cold. Yebin and Kyungwon were silent beside her. “When your father told me we were going to see you perform in a circus, I was braced for the worst. I didn’t know you were the one running it.”

She spoke like it hurt to get the words out. Like she was so disappointed in Minkyung, she didn’t even know who she was anymore.

“Mother, I love this show. The girls performing here are so talented--”

“Girls, performing in a circus. Girls your age are supposed to be getting married and having children.” Yebin looked ready to say something, but Kyungwon put a hand on her arm to stop her.

“Father, please.” Minkyung turned to her father, resigned to not being able to have her mother see sense. “You must have seen it. Yebin on the trapeze, and Kyungwon with the elephants. This show is special!”

“This is not the life I planned for you, Minkyung,” her mother continued. Her father looked uncomfortable, but he didn’t speak out against her. “I want you at home at once.”

“Mother!”

“If you’re not home tonight, I am cutting you off. You will get none of your inheritance, and you will be publicly disowned.”

“Mother!” Minkyung felt like crying, but she didn’t want her parents to see her break down.

Her mother looked at her for a second, disappointment laced throughout her stare, before turning away and leaving the stadium.

“Don’t make her do it, sweetheart,” her father said to Minkyung quietly before turning to follow her. “Just come home.”

There was silence for a minute as her parents left, and Minkyung felt like the stadium was collapsing in on her. Yebin and Kyungwon were both looking at her, waiting for her to make the first move, but Minkyung didn’t know what to think. She felt frozen.

“Go get Nayoung,” Yebin told Kyungwon finally, her voice low as if not to disturb Minkyung’s thoughts. Kyungwon nodded and left, shooting Minkyung a concerned glance.

“Hey,” Yebin said, taking one of Minkyung’s hands. Minkyung could tell she was trying to be helpful, but her voice was shaking and her eyes were full of worry and it really wasn’t helping in the slightest. “It’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna figure this out.”

“Yebs,” Minkyung said her name like she was letting out a breath, “I can’t do this right now. I can’t--”

“No, we will. You don’t need them.” She had that defiant tone in her voice again, like she needed to convince both herself and Minkyung. “If they don’t appreciate you, it’s their loss.”

“Yebs, they’re my family.”

“We can be your family. I can be your family.”

She sounded desperate, and Minkyung hated hearing her sound like that, but she needed to think for herself and Yebin really wasn’t making it easy. Her mind was spinning already.  “Yebin, please.” She pulled her hand away and took a step back. She noticed the flash of hurt in Yebin’s eyes before she looked away.

“Minkyung, if your parents cared about you they would’ve understood how much you love this show. They would have wanted you to be happy. They don’t care about you. But we do. I do.” It sounded a lot like a confession, and Minkyung did not need that on top of everything she already had to think about. “I care about you a lot, actually. Enough that it scares me.”

“Please, I can’t do this right now,” Minkyung said, taking another step back. Yebin looked like she was ready to cry too, and Minkyung’s heart stung, but she needed quiet and to think and she couldn’t do that if Yebin was looking at her with those eyes, so she turned on her heel and left as quickly as she could.

Yebin didn’t follow her.

 

 

She was sitting in the middle of the ring when Nayoung found her, staring at the ground and trying to keep her mind from imploding in on itself. Between her family and Yebin, Minkyung couldn’t even decide what was more important to think about.

“Hey,” Nayoung said simply, sitting down next to her on the floor and crossing her legs. Minkyung nodded but didn’t look up.

“Yebin’s really upset,” Nayoung continued, and Minkyung’s heart stung again. “But she understands. She said she’ll understand if you decide to go home.”

“I don’t know where home is anymore,” Minkyung admitted.

“I think you do know,” Nayoung said. When Minkyung didn’t respond, Nayoung continued, “Look. Everyone here is running away from something.”

“And none of them are having as many problems about it as me.”

“They are, but their problems are different.” Nayoung paused, thinking for a second. “Siyeon’s parents are both alcoholics. They got evicted from their home last year because they were too hungover to go to work.”

Minkyung frowned, unsure what to say. Luckily, Nayoung wasn’t done.

“Yewon ran away from the boarding school her parents sent her to because they thought she was mentally deranged after finding her perfectly balanced on the tip of the roof when she was twelve.”

Minkyung almost laughed at the mental image of their adorable tightrope walker at twelve years old scaring her parents half to death.

“Yebin ran away from the orphanage because she was teased and physically abused, both by the other kids and the staff that was supposed to take care of her.” Minkyung looked up quickly, surprised, and Nayoung nodded. “She leaves that part out when she tells the story.”

“What does this have to do with me?” Minkyung asked.

“I told you before I’m not here to make your decisions for you,” she said. “But you never seemed like the type to run away and hide.”

 

 

“Minkyung, dear, would pass the gravy?”

Minkyung didn’t even hear her father’s request, her eyes locked on the world outside the window and her mind miles away. There was a flock of birds in the air, she could almost hear them calling to one another as they flew. She thought of Yebin, a bird in her own right, as she swung from the trapeze bars.

“Minkyung?”

It had been almost three weeks since she left the circus and came back to her parents’ house. She and her mother had been tiptoeing around each other the entire time, and her father looked sad whenever she caught his eye. And that night, just before dinner, the doorbell had rung and her mother had introduced her to Jeon Minhwan, the rich businessman she was to marry the following spring.

 He was taller than Minkyung – she thought he would have towered over Yebin – and he was dressed in a way that made Minkyung feel underdressed, even in her nicest outfit. He had hardly said two words to her the entire night, but her mother seemed charmed. She thought he was the exact kind of man she would expect her mother to pick out.

“Minkyung!” Minhwan’s voice brought Minkyung startlingly back to reality, and she flinched so hard she almost spilled the wine glass at her place setting.

“Where are your manners?” he asked, and Minkyung’s blood boiled.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice completely monotone. “I was thinking of more interesting things. What can I do for you?”

“Minkyung, that is enough,” her mother snapped, looking between her and Minhwan nervously.

“I’m sorry, Mother, am I being rude? I was just being honest. You value honesty, don’t you?” She put as much innocence into her voice as she could, trying her hardest to rile them both up. If she was going to be miserable, she might as well make them all miserable.

Her mother sighed and turned to Minhwan. “You’ll have to forgive my daughter. She’s having a rough time adjusting to adulthood. I’m sure she’ll straighten out soon.”

Minkyung laughed at the term her mother had used – but she wasn’t quite ready to explain that one yet, so she didn’t say anything.

“Yes, I hope so,” Minhwan said.

Minkyung finished her wine in silence.

 

 

“You’re getting married in the spring, so these colors are best to represent budding love, like flower buds. But these colors truly complement Miss Kim’s eyes, so the choice is up to you.”

Their wedding planner had been talking seemingly forever. Minkyung didn’t understand why planning a wedding took so much time – it wasn’t even autumn yet, but they were already planning for a party meant to happen the following spring? It seemed like such a waste to Minkyung. From what she had heard of the event they were planning, it seemed dreadfully boring anyway.

One night when she was with the Circus Phenomena, the ten girls had all crowded into Minkyung and Kyungwon’s bedroom and drank together until they were completely wasted. Eunwoo and Sungyeon had started singing and the rest of them had danced along. They fell asleep in a dogpile on the floor, the limbs of ten girls all knotted together, Minkyung’s head on Yebin’s stomach. She fell asleep to the sound of her heartbeat.

 That night had been the greatest party Minkyung had ever been to, and this wedding seemed like a funeral in comparison.

She had been back home for almost a month, and nothing had improved. Her mother was still angry with her, her father still lacked a spine, and Jeon Minhwan was a piece of cardboard. She couldn’t stop thinking about Yebin’s smile, her sparkling eyes, the way she swung from the silks like she was born for it.

“Minkyung, what do you think?” Minkyung blinked at the wedding planner, the look in her eyes betraying her.

“She wasn’t listening.” Minhwan sighed. “Forgive my fiancée, she’s a little airheaded sometimes.”

Minkyung’s eyebrows drew together. “Airheaded?” she repeated.

“I asked what you thought of the color scheme, Miss Kim.” The planner repeated, a little nervously.

“What my… lovely fiancé here thinks is best is what I agree with.” Minkyung said, giving a fake smile.

Minhwan sighed again and took over the conversation, discussing wedding details that Minkyung didn’t really even understand. What did she care about the guest list or the seating chart? The only people she really wanted there definitely wouldn’t be invited.

“You need to learn to behave,” Minhwan hissed in her ear as they were leaving, pulling her along with an iron grip on her upper arm.

“I was behaving,” Minkyung insisted. She tried to wiggle away, but he was strong and only tightened his grip around her arm. She was sure to have bruises later.

“You were embarrassing me,” he snapped. “I will not have you behaving like this when we are married, do you understand me?”

Minkyung glared at him in silence.

“Do you understand me?”

His voice was low and dangerous, and Minkyung hated that she flinched.

 

 

“Minkyung, darling?”

Minkyung was lying on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. It had been another night of the same thing, and she was exhausted. If she hadn’t been sure before, she definitely was now. She hated this life and everything it brought.

Her father stopped in the doorway, hesitating. “Dear?” he asked again, and Minkyung looked up. Of everyone in the household, he was definitely the one she minded the least. Even if he did have no backbone.

“What is it?” she asked, sitting up in bed. He closed the door behind him and crossed the room, sitting gently on the edge of the bed beside her.

“I noticed you hardly ate any dinner again tonight,” he said after a moment of silence. “You can’t keep doing that, it isn’t good for you.”

She thought of the midnight snacks she had been sustaining herself on for the past few weeks, but she decided not to tell him that.

“I’m fine, Father,” she said instead. “I’m doing okay.”

“I wish that were true.” He sighed, not meeting her eyes. “Your mother means well, you know. She thinks she has the perfect life planned out for you, a life she wishes she could have gotten for herself. She only wants the best for you, but she is blind to what makes you happy. She doesn’t understand that you don’t want the same things she does.”

“She doesn’t listen to anything I say,” Minkyung said. “I’m an adult, you know.”

“I know. I know. And she knows too.”

“She treats me like a child.”

“She thinks she knows what is best. That doesn’t mean she’s right, but she is trying.” He glanced out the window next to her bed, looking deep in thought.

Minkyung stayed silent.

“Tell me one thing, darling,” he said finally, looking back at her. “Did that circus make you happy?”

“Yes,” Minkyung replied immediately, automatically.

“That is the only thing that is supposed to matter. To me and your mother. She doesn’t understand right now, but I’ve been watching you. I know you’re miserable. And it’s not fair to any of us.”

“What are you saying?” Minkyung asked hesitantly.

“I think you should do whatever your heart tells you to do.” He stood up, ready to leave her to her decision. She thought of Nayoung, telling her she already knew where her home was. Now Minkyung thought she was right.

“If that circus is what will make you want to get out of bed in the morning, I think you should go back. Your mother won’t understand, but I’ll talk to her. I’ll make her understand that it makes you happy, and I’ll take her to see the show again,” her father continued, stopping in the doorway and turning around to face Minkyung. “I’m sorry we had to put you through so much heartache, sweetheart.”

Minkyung almost wanted to cry, and she almost wanted to hug him, but she couldn’t decide which was better so she just nodded as he shut the door and left her alone.

 

 

When Minkyung arrived at the stadium, the show had just ended. The audience was leaving in one big crowd, making it difficult to push her way into the theater, but she managed and caught sight of the performers in the ring, talking to children and signing autographs like they did after every show.

She saw Yebin kneeling to speak to a little girl no older than four, smiling and nodding as she listened to the little girl tell a story. As Minkyung entered the ring, Yebin looked up and caught her eye, the smile immediately falling. The month they had spent apart felt like a lifetime, and Minkyung’s heart did acrobatics in her chest when they made eye contact.  Minkyung wanted more than anything to speak to her, but she needed to find Nayoung first.

Luckily, the Ringleader wasn’t hard to find. She was standing in the doorway to the theater, keeping a watchful eye on her performers and making sure the audience all safely exited the theater. She didn’t look surprised when she saw Minkyung, but she smiled anyway.

“Did you figure it out?” she asked simply.

“Figure what out?” Minkyung asked.

“Where your home is,”

Minkyung smiled. “Yeah, I did. I think I knew it the whole time.”

“I told you.”

“You know all of us too well.”

“Minkyung!” She turned quickly, just in time to avoid being pushed to the ground as Kyungwon tackled her in a tight hug.

“Hey.” She laughed, hugging Kyungwon back. “I can’t breathe.”

“Are you back? To stay?” the younger girl asked when she let go.

Minkyung nodded. “I think so.”

“Yes!” Kyungwon’s eyes flashed, and Minkyung felt a rush of fondness. “You have no idea how lonely our room was without you.”

“Minkyung!” Siyeon yelled, and the rest of the girls were crowded around her in no time. They all wanted a hug, which Minkyung was more than happy to supply, and reassurance that she was definitely back for good, which she insisted she was.

“We were just going out for dinner, are you going to come?” Sungyeon asked.

Minkyung nodded. “Definitely,” she said, before realizing there were only eight girls standing around her.

She must have looked upset, because Nayoung pulled the girls away from her. “Find Yebin, and then both of you come join us for dinner.”

Minkyung nodded, saying goodbye to the other girls. They all left, and Minkyung was alone again.

 

 

Finding Yebin wasn’t that difficult because Minkyung found that the shorter girl was awfully predictable. She knew Yebin was a bird, and birds were always more comfortable in the air. Why shouldn’t she take flight when she felt uncomfortable or scared?

“Please come down from there,” Minkyung called up into the air. The spotlights were off, so she couldn’t actually see the trapeze platforms way high up above the ring. But she knew they were there, and she knew it was the first place Yebin would escape to.

“Nayoung wants you to go to dinner with us.”

“Go without me, I’ve got practicing to do.” Yebin’s voice drifted down from the platform, and Minkyung noticed it sounded weak and shaky. Like she’d been crying.

“No you don’t, you’ve got a family of circus freaks and a hot meal waiting for you.”

There was silence for a long time, so Minkyung huffed loud enough for Yebin to hear. “I’m not leaving until you come down.”

There was silence again, but Minkyung could hear the acrobat moving above her. “Fine,” Yebin said finally. Minkyung waited on the ground while Yebin descended, taking her time to collect herself and probably figure out what to say. But finally, finally, Yebin landed in front of her and it took all of Minkyung’s willpower not to pull her into her arms.

Yebin refused to meet her eyes at first, keeping her distance. Minkyung almost wanted to laugh.

“Look, about what I said before you left,” Yebin said finally, apparently seeing no way to avoid it. “I was being weird, and I understand. We’re both girls, and that’s not something--”

Minkyung couldn’t hold back anymore. She had waited a month to see Yebin again, and hearing her apologize for her feelings seemed so absurd, she closed the gap between them in one large stride and crashed their lips together, effectively cutting her off midsentence.

Yebin froze in surprise before she melted under Minkyung’s touch. Clinging to her waist like she was afraid Minkyung might disappear if she let go, the shorter girl kissed back with earth-shattering enthusiasm.

It was intoxicating, and it was exhilarating, and she wanted to kiss Yebin all night, but she knew the others were waiting for them.

When she pulled away, Yebin looked like she had been underwater and just resurfaced for air. Minkyung smiled, kissing her again quickly because she couldn’t resist.

“So?” she asked, stroking her thumb gently across the other girl’s cheek.

Yebin looked confused, like she had just awoken from a dream. Her fingers dug into Minkyung’s waist. “What?”

“Can I be a part of your circus freak family?”

She smiled, and Minkyung’s heart melted. “You don’t even have to ask.”

 

 

Nayoung finished introducing the trapeze artists and the spotlights all panned to reveal Yebin and Eunwoo in the air. They swung from the trapeze bars fluidly, expertly, catching one another and doing tricks in midair like they knew the sky better than the ground. Minkyung loved watching Yebin perform. Even after all the shows, all the practices, all the times she had lost her grip and almost plunged to her death. Minkyung never got tired of watching her.

The audience didn’t either, apparently, because the circus was still as popular as ever. They had been in operation for over two years. Minkyung was surprised they had maintained a viewership, but at the same time, she wasn’t. She had known the girls in the show were special from the first time she had seen them, two years ago, when she had been running from her problems and the beautiful bird in the yellow costume provided the perfect escape.

Now she wasn’t running. She was home, and she had a family that she had found all by herself, and they were enough for her. Her parents had never tried to contact her again, but with every passing week, Minkyung found that she didn’t mind as much. She had a family. She had nine talented circus freaks that she thought were better than any traditional family, eight crazy sisters and one girl she loved more than she ever thought possible.

Minkyung watched the performance in front of her, even though she had seen it a million years. Even though it was one of Nayoung’s shows ( which they now split 50/50 ) and she really had no business even being in the wings. She kept a watchful eye on the performers, making sure nothing went wrong and no one got hurt. Like a good leader was supposed to.

After the trapeze artists were done and Kyungwon started her act with the elephants, Minkyung scanned the audience. They seemed excited, enraptured. A little girl was practically bouncing out of her seat in excitement at the idea of a real elephant right in front of her. And as Minkyung’s eyes scanned the faces in the dark, she thought she was going crazy.

There in the middle of the crowd, sticking out like a sore thumb and making Minkyung wonder why she hadn’t seen them before, both her parents sat transfixed by the show.

Minkyung almost threw up. She hadn’t seen her parents for almost two years. They hadn’t even written to her. She knew her father had promised to bring her mother back to the show, but after the first few months, she had stopped hoping.

It had been years, but now her parents were sitting in the audience of her show, and they seemed...happy. She couldn’t see any disgust on her mother’s face. One of the elephants did a trick, and Minkyung almost fainted. Her mother had laughed.

For the rest of the show, Minkyung couldn’t help but watch her parents from across the stadium, smiling when they smiled, laughing when they laughed, gasping when they gasped. Which they did. Because Minkyung knew her show was special, and now for the first time, she knew they saw it too.

When Nayoung brought the show to its end, Minkyung watched, enamored, as the spotlight shone. The performers in the ring—her family, after all the time – all gave their bows. The audience roared. 

And her parents were applauding too.

**Author's Note:**

> originally, when i decided to write a fic titled with lyrics from rewrite the stars, it was going to be a cute little canon-divergent pristinverse minkyebin fic centered around a new years eve party. then i started thinking of yebin as a trapeze artist and suddenly i gave birth to this monster. which btw this story is a lot better in my head lmao.
> 
> also i never proofread this so if you find mistakes...whoops?
> 
> my tumblr is kangyesbian if you wanna follow me or if you wanna know more about the circus and what the other girls do because i have it all figured out and would love to talk about it ok. but i hardly use that tumblr so if you really wanna know you can ask my rp blog, divinexwreckage.


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